


Silly Stiles, Tricks are for Kids

by MotherGoddamn, Rebness



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2544929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherGoddamn/pseuds/MotherGoddamn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebness/pseuds/Rebness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Okay, so a good mix of chocolate, no fruit or celery sticks this time around so there won’t be any abusive kids, no claws out so no cops, and I’ve put a shirt on this year so no visits from 20-year-old women.’ Derek gingerly placed the bowl of treats on the stand next to the door and folded his arms, staring at it happily. ‘I am definitely getting this being normal thing correct this year.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silly Stiles, Tricks are for Kids

 

‘Okay, so a good mix of chocolate, no fruit or celery sticks this time around so there won’t be any abusive kids, no claws out so no cops, and I’ve put a shirt on this year so no visits from 20-year-old women.’ Derek gingerly placed the bowl of treats on the stand next to the door and folded his arms, staring at it happily. ‘I am definitely getting this being normal thing correct this year.’

He stood, arms folded, for an hour or so. He figured that the best thing to do would be ready to meet the kids if he stood there moodily, draped in shadow.

The doorbell rang. Derek bounded forward and pulled the door open fully. The smile faded from his face as the greeting rang out from his visitor.

'Trick or treat!’

'No.'

'Wait? What? Why?'

'Stiles. You are seventeen. Get the hell off my doorstep.'

'Dude, gimme a break here. You actually have a normal front door now instead of a super villain slide elevator thingy. This makes this actually possible! Plus, my costume is the bomb so--' He gave a little shake of his bag. 'Get with the treating.'

‘You’re being selfish, aren’t you? This night is for children, not some hyperactive young adult.’

‘Um, last I checked, ghosts and ax murderers weren’t just for children, you know!’

'You're not even dressed up!'

'Uh, dude, offensive? I'm the face of What’s Wrong with Society.' Stiles preened. 'It's actually totally clever and post modern.'

Derek nodded. 'I believe the terms are lazy and moronic, actually.'

'No, seriously. I'm an average white male! I represent a threat to like 99% of people who open the door to me. And I can’t even count the 1%, because you need a passcode to get in the gated community.’

'Okay.' Derek closed the door.

'Hey! Hey!' Several thumps sounded against the wood. 'Open up or I will totally egg your house, man. You're going to be a little omelette when I'm do--- whoah, whoah, joke joke! Put the claws away!' He held up his hand to ward Derek off. 'Okay, okay. I may have had a little problem with my costume and had no time to rectify it. Just a _little_.'

‘I don’t know. You got village idiot down quite well.’

‘And clearly you’re dressed as a clown because you are so side splittingly hilarious.’ said Stiles rolling his eyes. ‘See, me and Malia were going to do this couple costume thing for Danny’s party and I’ve got it with me,’ He jerked a thumb at his knapsack. ‘But totally not wearing it because, oh! -- I mean, not a _couple_ couple because totally better off as friends and I’m totally free and single and there’s totally nothing going on between us if _that’s_ what you are thinking, and I think she just needs time to grow as a person, you know? Find herself. Not that I’m not okay with that, I’m fine, great even because I actually like this other person who-- wait! Will you stop closing the door!’ Stiles snapped. ‘Fine! I’m Princess Leia, okay? Happy now?’

Derek blinked. ‘You’re... you’re Princess Leia?’

Stiles shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yeah, I uh, probably should have run interference to make sure she understood that I was supposed to be Hans Solo. And that, that she was supposed to get the standard Leia costume and not the sexy slave girl one with the --’

‘--gold bikini!’

‘Hey!’ Stiles gave an excited jump. ‘There’s finally someone in this town with taste? You’ve seen _Star Wars?_ ’

‘No, but I’ve seen porn, Stiles.’ He gazed off into the distance. ‘There were chains and strangling. I wasn’t much into it. Much.’

Stiles pouted. ‘Malia says I have the legs for Leia.’ He scratched his nose. ‘So, uh, yeah there’s that. She brought it over an hour ago and I didn’t have the heart to correct her. Plus, she had that whip.’

Derek frowned. ‘Hans Solo has a whip?’

‘No. No. Indiana Jones does, though. Remind me next year not to let your cousin organise the costumes until I’ve fully immersed her in popular culture.

'Right. Okay. I'll indulge.' Derek leaned against the door frame. 'Trick.'

'Uh? Trick. Now see, I hadn't prepared for-- uh- Oh! Juggling! Just hand me those jawstoppers, six- six should do.'

‘If only.’ He slapped at Stiles’ hand. ‘Not -- for -- you!’

Stiles rubbed at his hand. 'Oh, my God, you're so unreasonable. Mr Harding at 83 gave me, like, six Paydays. Where's your Halloween spirit?'

'Yeah, I know Mr. Harding at 83,' said Derek. 'He introduced himself when he moved in. Because he is required to. By _law_.'

'Oh? _Oh._ Well that explains why he wanted me to eat them right there and then.' Stiles licked his lips. 'Kind of regret that a bit now.'

‘Have some self-respect,’ said Derek's sternly. He glowered at Stiles, who was perfecting his hurt puppy dog look and casting meaningful glances at the bowl of treats.

‘Wait, come on!’ Stiles opened his eyes wide. ‘I’m _so_ hungry, Derek.’

‘You just had six Paydays!’

‘Yeah, but that was mainly just lots of leisurely licking...and, wow, I can’t believe that I didn’t pick up on that sooner.’

Derek closed his eyes, willing the image away. _Think of taxes. Wait, I don’t pay taxes, I’m filthy rich. Think of chairs. Mmm, soft, sexy chairs, grinding my hard buns into them -- why is everything I do so sexy? Think of_ Peter. _Argh. There. Works like a charm every time._

‘Oh, fine!’ snapped Derek. ‘As long as it means you get out of my hair.’ He reached into the bowl and thrust some candy into Stiles’s hand.

‘Are you even serious right now? Hershey’s kisses? You hate me that much?’

Derek sniffed. ‘Take it or leave it.’ He glared at Stiles as the treats hit him in the chest. ‘Fine. Now get out.’

Derek slammed the door shut. Now. Back to being normal.

He crossed his arms and stood there in the dark, silently awaiting the next trick or treater.

_Soon._

* * *

 

A knock sounded at the door.

Stiles stood there, his hair mussed, the remnants of what looked to be a dozen eggs smashed against his body oozing down his face and his clothes.

‘Don’t,’ he said miserably.

‘Who did--’

‘I said don’t.’

‘How--’

‘Derek,’ he said, his voice low and pleading. ‘ _Please_. Can I just -- five minutes to rest, wash this stuff off, okay?’

Derek felt a tightening in his chest. He pulled the door open fully and gestured inside. ‘You can go get changed if you want. My room is upstairs on the left, it’s an en suite so you can clean up.’

‘Thanks, man, I appreciate it.’ He nodded as Derek as he edged past, yolk dripping as he made his way up the stairs. Derek listened as he closed the bathroom door and the shower began running.

‘Poor kid. Maybe I should fill his sack, make him feel a bit better,’ Derek murmured to himself. He frowned. _Was that an euphemism?_ Nope. Nope, nope. He was absolutely not thinking of Stiles’s sack. Nope.

Or him being upstairs. In Derek’s very own bathroom. Pressing a wet flannel to his pale torso because he was a dirty _, dirty_ \-- sweet Jesus, this was what happened when you loaned Mr. Harding sugar!

There was the sound of Stiles pottering about the bathroom and then padding across the hall to the master bedroom. He was in there for some time and Derek began to feel uneasy. What if he discovered the stash? What if he’d found secret things hidden away in his drawers?

With a yelp of alarm, Derek bounded up the stairs and came to a halt outside the bedroom door. He rapped on it sharply. ‘Stiles, open up!’

‘Just a minute, puttin’ some clothes on.’

Derek waited a little longer, glaring at the door. He huffed with annoyance when Stiles cracked open the door and peered around it. ‘Hey, Derek.’

‘Listen, Stiles,’ said Derek, pushing the door open. ‘I--- _what the holy fuck are you wearing?_ ’

‘What?’ Stiles glanced down. ‘My costume?’

‘I meant--- I meant change into something of mine! Not--- not that!’ Derek made a panicked spin, making sure his gaze landed anywhere but on Stiles’s golden bikini clad body.

‘What? Oh! Haha, sorry, dude, totally didn’t pick up on that but at least this costume got some use, huh?’ Stiles placed his hands on his hips and Derek gulped, claws pressing into his palm. ‘I cannot stand wasting stuff.’ He dropped down onto the bed, crossing his legs elegantly. ‘I’ll just text Danny, see if he can drop by and pick me up.’

‘You going into public? Wearing-- wearing _that?_ I’m just going to open a window. Is it hot? I think it’s hot. Are you hot? No! You’re not hot! You’re fine. Hey, actually are you cold? It’s unseasonably cold come to think of it! I have a sweater you can wear. I might even have a boiler suit!’

‘Ok---ay. That’s the most I have ever heard you speak.’ Stiles glanced up at him. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Sure. Sure!’ Derek nodded vigorously. ‘Peachy keen!’ He considered. ‘No, actually. That is not acceptable, okay? You’ve got it all on show!’

Stiles raised an eyebrow. ‘I think maybe you should have gone as What’s Wrong as Society, because this judgement? Not cool.’

‘Look, I’m not saying that. You shouldn’t go out because...’ he bit his lip. ‘I was just listening to the news, and they said it’s going to rain.’

‘Derek, firstly, your TV wasn’t on. It was like you were standing there creepily in the dark.’ Stiles shifted uncomfortably. ‘Like the way you used to just appear in the woods.’

Derek gasped. ‘You knew about that?’

‘We all knew about that, Derek. We just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.’ Stiles gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Don’t look so sad. We probably didn’t catch you all the time. You were probably _really_ stealthy sometimes.’

Derek stiffened. ‘Of course I was. I’m good at what I do.’

Stiles nodded. ‘You really are.’

There followed a strained silence. Derek found it hard to break his gaze from Stiles’ own, the boy flushing prettily under the attention; there was something about Stiles that was always so sincere, so trusting. Derek was never quite sure how to be around that.

Stiles finally broke the stare, glancing away while worrying at his lips.’ I should probably go...’ he said softly.

‘Stiles--’

‘Yeah?’ Stiles looked back towards him, an almost _hopeful_ expression on his face. But then again,  Derek had been wrong before. More than once.

‘Nothing. It’s-- forget it.’ Derek sighed. ‘All right, yeah, I can’t tell you what to do. You are after all a grown man, playing kid’s games or not.’ He shook his head. ‘See yourself out. I’m going to grab a beer.’

He trudged downstairs and into his kitchen, hoping he would hear the sound of Stiles following. He could hear him moving about in the bedroom, but it sounded like he was just gathering his things together. Derek pulled open the door of the refrigerator with a sigh, took out a beer and pulled the cap off. He stared at his hand wryly. Such monstrous strength. No wonder Stiles didn’t want to be around him.

He wandered into the den and turned the television on to some mindless reality TV show, turning up the sound. ‘Happy Halloween,’ he muttered to himself sullenly.

‘Really?’ came a voice behind him. ‘If you’re going to force me to watch the _Kardashians_ , I might have to just deal with the rain instead.’

‘You’re not leaving?’ said Derek, as Stiles dropped down beside him and shifted close.

‘Nah,’ said Stiles. He smiled, and there was gentle mirth in his eyes. ‘I still owe you that trick, remember?’

 

 


End file.
